Shadows
by aniay
Summary: The events that had come to past changed Optimus in ways no one can comprehend. DotM Spoilers ahead! COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Not exactly a fixit fic but still an attempt to try and explain why Optimus behaved like he did. Set of drabbles and ficlets that somehow wrote themselves when I wasn't paying attention. I wanted to leave that idea alone but white_aster on DW kinda dared me to write it. Thanks. Not betaed.

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><p>Day after day the weight in his chest became heavier. He had ignore it in days that was stained with blood and Energon, days when they salvaged what was left of Chicago to make it habitable again.<p>

This time no one said no to Wreckers being outside the base, every pair of hands counted especially if it were large pair of hands. Decepticons scattered; With no Megatron, Starscream or Soundwave alive they got into hiding, but not before Prime sent all his Autobots to hunt them down. He wasn't taking any chances. He had trusted and his trust has been broken in worst way possible. The Matrix in his chest pulsed painfully, his spark throbbing in desire to get his revenge.

Humans were divided on those who accepted the Robots and those that still considered them a threat, mothers screaming at the mechs for killing their children and husbands. Many of those who survived suffered psychological damage, many didn't Survive.

Somewhere in between there was him, the leader of those who remained; Painfully few they were to stay on Earth forever and Protect them till the Rust would eat them up to the last hinge.

Rust...

Cosmic Rust

Ironhide...

He felt an agonising scream rising in his chest and he chocked on it falling down to his knees, Matrix burned with white-hot pain in his chest. His own spark crying in loss.

Ironhide...

He clutched at his chest and then almost tore the chest-plates apart as they were opening.. too slowly... Too small... _Deeper_...

He need Matrix now, needed it to save him...

He saw the rusting body in front of him calling for him, clutching at his chest...

Optimus slammed the Matrix into the guttering spark and cried out as the jolt of electricity shot through his body... making him spasm and drop into the ground with a heavy clang.

Clang that too him was dull and muffled.

Ironhide...

With Head on the ground he saw green pedes before everything turned into blackness of medical stasis.

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><p>Ratchet watched Optimus, the battle for Chicago, Ironhide's death, Sentinel's betrayal... It changed him.<p>

He now watched his leader start his optics on medical berth, the blue light dull and grayish as Optimus looked at him.

"Where is Ironhide?" Optimus asked, his left hand going to his chest and pressing to it.

Ratchet fell his spark call to Optimus in comfort.

"Where all of our fallen are."

The pained sob from Optimus hurt him... their company so high tuned to each other.

"Take me there."

They were still there, their fallen comrades standing on the altar - charred or crystal clear, covered in rust or verdigis...

The spark casings of the mechs that no longer were with him, an empty shells which Will had once described as apple cores. In some twisted way they were. Metallic cores of equally metallic beings, the centers of their souls... and who they were. The sources of their life.

As long as the Sparks were alive, as long the mech was alive.

They kept the casings, believing... hoping that they kept the mechs along with their remains.

Optimus stepped to the altar and bared his own spark, he reached and touched the one in the front, rusted...

"Ironhide" He spoke and then withdrew his Matrix, the artifact shining in his hand, brighter than Optimus' spark. "There is nothing we can do."

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><p>Bumblebee watched as the Prime shifted his body into full battle mode and with almighty roar charged Sideswipe.<p>

"YOU WILL NOT BRING HIM HERE!" The Prime bellowed, humans scattering around from under his pedes.

Sideswipe threw the large spark casing to Mirage and charged back at Prime, blade at the ready.

"He deserves oblivion" Prime cried out and took aim at the Spark casing that Mirage now held.

Sideswipe slid and with one well aimed stroke to Optimus elbow, breaking his lock on his target.

Optimus snarled in anger and charged back at Sideswipe.

"Prime, calm down!" Ratchet cried out ushering humans from the range of what was starting to be inside fight.

"He is a traitor and a killer." Prime cried out, Sideswipe backing under assault of Optimus' blows.

"He is your brother" Ratchet yelled trying to catch Optimus before he hurt Sideswipe.

Something was seriously wrong.

"He is not, and I will destroy those that will ever repeat that blasphemy. I have no brother, nor mentor." Optimus shoved Ratchet aside, the green mechs toppling to the ground and shifting into his alt-mode. Before his tires hit the ground he put his engine in high gear and rammed into Optimus legs, tripping him to the pavement with a loud Crash.

"Hold him."

Two words were enough for Sideswipe and Mirage to get into gear and bodily pin Optimus to the ground, the mech trashing in their hold, blue optics flickering.

"Sorry Prime but I relieve you of duty, as is my Medical right. I will administer the sedative and YOU. ARE. GROUNDED"

Ratchet let his interface cable de-spool and jabbed it into Optimus' nearest port.

"Calm the frag down, Optimus!" He said with his voice a bit less angry and more frightened.

"You will not tell me what I should do _medic_. GAH!" Optimus snarled and growled before finally going limp.

"He needed more than I thought!" Ratchet sighed in what sounded like exasperation and shock. "Get him back to medical, tie him to the berth and make sure those knots are secure or I'll be picking up _your_ remains from allover the base."

The red and silver mechs looked at him. "What about the Megatron?" Ratchet looked at the empty casing, casing he knew so well from times it was the core of Lord Protector.

"Leave him at the altar just..." He glanced at Prime "On the side of others."

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><p>"You destroyed Cybertron!" Accusing finger pointed towards Bumblebee.<p>

The yellow bot chirped sadly and lowered his battle mask in embarrassment.

"Optimus..." Ratchet stepped forward to Optimus who glared at his scout with such poison in his optics it made the medic shiver. "You have ordered to destroy the pillar yourself, don't go blaming others for your own decisions!"

"He destroyed the pillar." At Optimus repeated words, Ratchet stepped between the Prime and Bumblebee.

"You want to blame someone, fine; Blame me. I shot it. Primus forbid you to throw accusations at Bee, he was doing his best."

Prime huffed and turned his head away putting a mock struggle against the cuffs on his ankles and one hand... the other hand stroking his chest absentmindedly.

"You know I will not forget what you did to me?" Optimus asked in silent, threatening whisper.

"I know". Ratchet seethed trying to keep calm. "It's for your slagging good."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: With enormous thanks to femme4jack, ultharkitty, and shadow who cheers me on, feed the bunnies and correct some of the errors on the go.

Also, you have to read femme4jacks Patronus fic (follow up to Iron Hope and Veveteen Robot) It's an awesome fixit fic. Fixit that I cannot do in this fic.

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><p>"What's wrong with him?" Sam looked up at Ratchet.<p>

"I do not know, Sam." Ratchet huffed. "I scanned him all the ways I could, including his spark, but nothing is wrong with him physically.

"Do you think it can be this all... PTSD shit they are talking about so much lately?"

"Samuel, while we do have psychological disorders, or something similar, it's all in our code. If any error occurs it is labeled by our systems and then either repaired or restored."

"That means you don't need psychs? That must be useful, fixing your own heads."  
>"That means that code streamers are very rare, Sam." Ratchet used his why won't-you-understand-this-already tone and Sam quickly decided to change the topic.<p>

"Okay. Now, who's in charge now, with Ironhide gone..." Ratchet sighed in response.

"The whole chain of command is blown to pieces. I am the highest ranking officer, but because of being a medic I can't... The wreckers are close behind in rank, but you can imagine how that would end."

Sam shivered visibly.

"You know Sideswipe," Ratchet continued. "Mirage is basically same... hot shots both of them. That leaves Bee; He is the youngest of us and Wreckers would never accept him as a leader."

"That Sucks."

"We have sent for others, including some mechs of high command. With Cybertron gone..." There was a painful pause in Ratchet's speech."... They have nothing else to protect. Decepticons are in hiding, all of their officers gone. I can only imagine the chaos, so not really an enemy to fight. Other Autobots, those that left, should be free to come here now. We lost so many, Sam."

Sam wasn't sure what so-many meant exactly, but he could imagine. For him even one mech, he barely knew few years was too-much. For robots who lived thousands of years... he could only imagine. Ratchet sounded tired, he sounded the ages old medic he was, and it was the first time Sam truly realized that. Never before he had heard the mech so... hopeless.

"That's why we called for you. We hope you'll be able to talk some reason into him."

Sam stopped and stared. "That's seriously fucked up if you ask a guy like me to try and fix someone."

Ratchet looked at him with piercing blue optics that were clearly saying 'you brought him back to life, you saved your world twice, is it really so much to ask this of you?';Was it even possible to say so much with a single look?

"Yeah okay, I get it. Shutting up." 

* * *

><p>Ratchet left Sam with Optimus who glowered viciously at the far wall.<p>

"It's not afraid of you no matter how much you glare at it." Sam supplied helpfully.

Optimus snorted digitally in response.

"What is wrong with you Optimus?" Sam, ignoring the quiet dismissal climbed over the ladder to Optimus' berth, trying to think that it had been put there for Mikaela. "Since you woke Sentinel up you haven't been yourself."

Optimus remained silent.

"I've seen you pull insane shit before, but what you pulled in Chicago, that was scary."

"You don't understand," Prime said quietly. "Besides, what can you know Samuel?" Optimus looked at the boy and the blood in Sam's veins froze.

"You are forgetting that earth was about to be destroyed few years ago. Been there..."

"It had never happened." Optimus interrupted with cold voice "You didn't see it perishing in fire, you didn't feel its call, its screams as it imploded above your head."

"Whoa, Prime" Sam took a step back under the assault of words. "I know you, Optimus. I've been elbow deep in your spark and I put the scar on your spark-casing jamming the matrix into it. I have felt you. You are not... this."

Sam took a steadying breath.

"What happened to the Optimus I know?"

"He died, Sam." Prime's answer sent a creepy feeling down Sam's body.. "I am responsible for deaths of Cybertron, Ironhide and all those humans."

"Killing Megatron and Sentinel didn't bring them back, huh?" Sam felt the sting of his own kill, that didn't feel as good as he had thought it would, but Optimus seemed to not hear his words, his optics going distant.

"I have offered the Matrix to Sentinel and he had declined. He should have taken it. It gives power, Sam. Terrifying power. I could feel it's energy singing in my lines as I tore through the cons, I felt it sing..." The deep voice that used to make him feel safe vibrated through Sam's body, making his guts clench in terror now.

"Leave it then. You don't need it. You are Bad-ass enough without it." Sam tried at a lighthearted tone and failed, his voice more of a terrified squeak.

Optimus laughed, cold mirthless laugh leaving his vocalizer and shifted his chest-plates open. With the free hand he pulled the Matrix out handing it to Sam.

With reverence, remembering the pleasant tingling feeling from so many years ago Sam touched the artifact.

A sudden pain shot through him, his body spasming, sharp cry tearing from his lungs and then he was falling, screaming...

He didn't feel when he hit the ground with unhealthy crunch.

***

"Sam, SAM?" Optimus pushed the Matrix back inside his chest and strained against the bonds futilely; only Ratchet could undo them. "RATCHET!" he bellowed on comm-link and aloud.

The medic came charging in, immediately assessing damage and tending to Sam.

"What have you done, Prime?"

"What have I done?" Optimus repeated, despair coloring his words.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A shorter update this time. This story is getting longer and longer despite already having an ending written. Thank you for encouraging reviews. There are about two chapters left and possibly some extras. Also I am aware that this needs beta. When I get one I'll repost. Once again thanks to ultharkitty and femme4jack.

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><p>Optimus was alone. Painfully alone. No one came to visit anymore. No one came to ask for anything. How could they? How dare they assume he had hurt Sam on purpose?<p>

But he had hurt him. The Matrix jumped in his hand when the boy touched it. He could feel the quick snap of discharge that rolled over it when it zapped Sam.

Sam was alive. Concussed and with few broken bones, but nothing too severe, nothing life threatening.

They kept Sam away. It hurt, but despite it Prime felt lighter than he had in a long time. The talk... changed something.

In the lonely time he had to himself he inspected the Matrix countless times wondering what had happened and why.

He would have asked Ratchet, but the medic, his friend, was avoiding any talk with with him. Again, it hurt.

Every time it happened the rage would rise in him, blinding, burning, making him struggle and fight the bonds to show them all...

With time the lightness from his talk with Sam evaporated.

Days of quiet despair creeping upon him. Memory purges thrown images at him. Sentinel rising his sword, Megatron's chopped head with the axe buried inside, splitting it in half. Ironhide's rusted shell coming to him, Jazz's two halves blaming him for failure, Sam's tiny organic body, crushed and dead.

Through the nightmares Optimus howled and screamed, thrashing on his berth, unable to escape them, unable to close his processor for the horrors.

He was falling apart and no one seemed to be able to help. No one wanted to help.

He was alone. 

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><p>Bumblebee was woken by an urgent ping from Ratchet and a sound of far away explosion. He booted up fight systems at the ready, guns humming. Only it wasn't war anymore he reminded himself... what was happening then?<p>

He sped to the med-bay and froze mid-stride when he heard a howl of rage and then sound of something or someone crashing into the ground.

"Fucking Prime." He heard Sideswipe curse and then sounds of fight followed.

He approached the open door hearing Ratchet's yells, sounds of metal meeting metal, shots and cries of rage.

The picture he saw made him regret the moment he was drawn to Prime's personal cohort.

Optimus, arm torn at the elbow, legs damaged at ankles, was fighting Sideswipe and Mirage with ruthlessnes and brutality of a Decepticon. The other two tried his best not to hurt him, avoiding Prime's blows and marking their own. Ratchet shouted orders at the mechs, but between the clang of steel they didn't heard him.

Bee approached, not knowing what to do. Then the blue-white optics of his Prime locked on him and Optimus charged.

At Bee.

Screaming bloody murder, the Autobot unsubspaced his sword and pushed the yellow scout to the ground. With lightening fast reflexes Bee drawn his gun and blocked the blow, the sword burying into the gun.

This couldn't be happening. Bee chirped, afraid like never before. Not Prime, not Optimus.

"Stop!" He managed through broken vocalizer with his own voice...

Others seemed to freeze in place not expecting that turn of events at all.

"Frag!" Ratchet swore "I shouldn't have been calling you... PRIME FOR PIT'S SAKE! Target him, you two. If he moves shot." Ratchet threw the order, his voice breaking."

Prime paused, his optics glowing with rage, energy and pure, unadulterated hate, vents cycling air furiously, damaged circuitry sparking.

"I BEG you Optimus, snap out of it." Bee couldn't remember the last time Ratchet sounded that desperate. "We have guns aimed at your spark. Please don't make us kill you."

Bee stared into white optics and saw no recognition in them. "Pleaseeee..." He tried again, vocalizer shorting at the last syllable with the whine.

Optimus blinked, optics resetting into normal blue and then widening with realization and terror.

"No..." He gasped in shock.

With a flurry of movement Ratchet was beside them jamming medical cable into Optimus port.

"Forgive me, Bee." Optimus whispered and promptly collapsed to the ground. Ratchet immediately starting to patch him up.

"Is he going to be okay?" Bee used his radio to ask.

"Never in my life I've seen something like this, Bee." Ratchet responded. And cut the blade just beside it's mount at Optimus' wrist.

With help of Sideswipe and Mirage he put Optimus on the berth. "Never in my lifeI have been more afraid that there is nothing I can do." Ratchet engaged the Magna-bonds over Prime's limbs. Much stronger than previous ones.

This admission, Bee realized, must have cost Ratchet more than he would ever admit it to anyone.

"As soon as I'm done with him, I'll take a look at your gun arm. I'm afraid, you'll have to wait to have your gun replaced." Ratchet mumbled from where he was welding something on Prime.

The only thing Bee could offer was a friendly hand on Ratchet's shoulder which the medic seemed to accept greatfully.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: You waited so long for this chapter because Cybertronian-star generously offered to beta it. YAY! I'll repost the firt three chapters soon.

Now enjoy. Thank you for all reviews, allerts and faves. ^_^

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><p>"Ironhide…"<p>

Ratchet knelt in front of his fallen comrades, he reached out for one of the casings and bared his spark. The blue and yellow light reflected in some casings, making them shine almost like if they were becoming alive once again, but Ironhide's remained as dead as it was the moment he had picked it up from the rusting remains.

"We are loosing him, Hide." Ratchet closed his chest and sat heavily on the ground. "It feels like loosing the war all over again." He hid his face in hands and rubbed on the itching face-plates.

"I spent hours fixing the damage he had done to himself. He's torn his hand from the sockets, the very same I reinstalled after the Sentinel fiasco." Ratchet groaned. "We need you. He needs a proper aft-kicking." A sad laugh escaped Medic's vocalizer. "He had attacked Bumblebee, I still can't believe it. He went... berserk I believe is the term human use. He had his feet torn from the sockets and still took us by surprise. I'm not sure I know him anymore. And Bee...His canon saved him, had he not done that, he would be with you right now. I dismantled it, offered replacement... He wants the old back... said you have made it for him. Didn't know about it." Ratchet leaned against the wall "Sam is all fragged up. He keeps insisting that Prime didn't hurt him. I'm not sure what to believe anymore. Prime is totally fragged too, Sam's hurt, Bee's hurt. Sideswipe and Mirage are probably hurting too but too proud to admit it... Wreckers... Leadfoot is wreaking havoc over your gun lab, 'Hide... If you ever plan to come back... now would be the good time to do it, I swear he will blow us up one day." Ratchet paused remembering suddenly how humans believed in ghosts "Or you know, you can always go back and haunt him, or maybe visit me. AH slaggit."

Ratchet fell silent.

"I regret so much that I hadn't got the course in coding. I had been so busy with other stuff... it didn't feel so important. Now I'm afraid I'll need to put my money where my mouth is and actually weld his aft to the berth till Prowl gets here."

One more pause, heavy with the hope of someone answering.

"I can hear you berating me for being a fool and telling me to kick my _ass _into gear, stop wallowing in guilt and try to fix what I can instead of whining about things I can't." Ratchet sighed, the sad smile spreading over his face-plates. "You are completely right, old git, it fits you, by the way, git." Ratchet transformed into his alt-mode and then back into robot form this time in vertical position. "But I still can't help regretting you going and not me. You would know what to do with Optimus... But it seems I will need to fix the damage. "

Ratchet nodded his head in respect looking at the silent altar. "Till we meet again, old friend."

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><p>Sam woke up in the middle of the night and made sure to not stir but only open his eyes.<br>Cautiously he turned his head to both sides and did a mental victory dance. No one was around.

_Finally…_

Since the accident they were guarding him day and night, as if he was a prisoner or something. He had faced Megatron, died and _still_lived to tell the tale. Why the fuck, were they guarding him so much.

Bumblebee was by far the worst, especially when Carly was around, The two of them were still a bit better than having his mother molly-coding him, but still. They treated him like if he lost both legs, arms and possibly the ability to think.

Sam slowly slid down to the ground from his bed saving the broken leg. He limped to the wall, as they declined to offer them crouches so that he would stay in bed. He limped to the door and opened it only to stop face to enormous face with the green Wrecker.

"Hello." Sam smiled.

"Shouldn't you be in your bed, autorepairing your broken..." The wrecker did a gesture with his hand "shit inside?"

"Taking a walk?" damn, Sam couldn't recall the name of this one... Roadtrack, Roady.. Roddy...something.

"It's Roadbuster." The Wrecker helped and only then Sam realized he was thinking aloud.

"Ah, shit... Yeah... Sorry; Roadbuster, right." Sam looked into the blue visor that regarded him curiously. It was strange but the Wrecker reminded him of Jazz. He hadn't really had time or really an occasion to know the silver warrior before his demise, but he remembered the same amused glint in his visor and confident smirk.

Shaking off the sudden goosebumps and remembering what Bee had said about Wreckers he steeled his nerves and glared at Roadbuster.

"Let me pass!" Sam tried with the most commanding tone he could muster.

"Like frag I will. I'm way too used to my aft-plate." The mech rasped.

"Afraid of Ratchet?" Sam tried.

"Pffft. Like slag. A Wrecker is not afraid of anyone and you should remember that fleshie."

"Name's Sam. And I suppose you won't be afraid of someone who killed Megatron, huh?"

"Dumb luck if you ask me... Human."

"I liked you better when you were fighting 'Cons." Sam mumbled and then begged. "_Please, _let me go?"

Roadbuster only snorted and stroked his gun which made Sam growl in frustration.

"Fuck! Listen, I want to help Optimus. I prefer him not stir-crazy and homicidal, thank you."

How could a visor express any emotions, Sam wasn't sure, but Roadbuster was looking like he was considering his words.

"You know what? Fine. You want your fleshie remains scattered allover the place, or reformatted into... something by Ratchet..." He stepped out of Sam's way. "Your are as good as fucked either way."

"I'm not sure I like your reasoning, but thanks." Sam sighed in relief and limped in the direction of Optimus' room.

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><p>Mirage's woken from his sleep-mode again. A sound from the Prime quiet sigh or a sob of anguish... he couldn't say. It was like listening to broken hinge in your back strut... Prime was broken.<p>

Mirage had been designated to guarding him, his cloak engaged so that Prime didn't know he was being guarded.

Prime... It wasn't even Prime anymore. A husk of mech silent and closed. Not speaking only sighing. The search on the world wide web informed him that humans called such state depression, Cybertronians didn't have a name for something like this... it never happened.

Prime had just laid there, sometimes staring at the ceiling. Totally ignoring Ratchet when he came, controlled the readings and left.

He could only regret and hope to have his Prime, their Prime back.

When he came to earth, following the call and finding Sideswipe... he had never felt more at home. With his brother in arms beside and Prime's cohort's easy acceptance.

It hurt seeing someone who welcomed him so warmly in such state.

The only thing he could do was to help and guard Prime from himself. That's why he didn't really hate this duty as much as he made Ratchet think he did.

It was his responsibility as one of Prime's mechs.

He looked at Prime again... and then realized it wasn't the sound from Optimus that booted him up, but no one else but Sam Witwicky limping as quietly as he could to the only human-sized berth in the room.

For a second Mirage wanted to de-cloak and shoo the human away but then Sam whispered Optimus' name and the bot reacted, looked down at the human and smiled.

Sam wasn't in danger as long as _he_ was there, weapons at the ready, as much as it hurt to consider using them against Prime, cloaked and observing.


	5. Chapter 5

Prime didn't care about anything. Not after what he had done.

He had threatened and almost murdered Bee, attacked one of his cohort. The blue, terrified optics haunted him now along with Ratchet's desperate voice.

He had felt the heat of charged guns at his back. He had pushed them to the extreme.

Pain that had assaulted him after he came back online the next day made the reality of what had happened twice more palpable, twice more real and thrice more hateful.

He had been magnetized to the berth, body strength medically lowered to 30%, additional magna-bonds on his wrist and damaged ankles, which still hurt. The hand that Ratchet always left free was barely holding on few flimsy wires and connections. Optimus knew that the medic had done it all to his own good.

He hated it and was grateful at the same time.

He still didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Ratchet had been coming and going checking the monitors, welds and other fixes, tightening or loosing screws. Optimus turned his head away every time and ignored the medic - not feeling like caring about anything. He didn't feel like inspecting the matrix anymore, the blasted artifact not answering any of is questions, only glowing with the eerie bluish light.

Everything had been lost, he was but a liability, a useless and dangerous bag of bolts.

Not even his friends was safe with him.

He often found himself missing Sam. Sam who called him a friend, who wasn't afraid of him.

So when one night a silent whisper sounded in the semi-darkness of his room he actually looked.

"Optimus." The name spoken with tone of warning and relief for a change made him feel... and smile lightly.

"Sam".

A white plaster on Sam's leg stood out as Sam limped to the human-sized bed and fell down on it with a huff and sigh of release.

"I never knew that sneaking out with your leg not really functional would be so tiring. Hey big guy." Sam smiled to him unafraid, and friendly.

Optimus wasn't sure he wanted to say anything but seeing Sam lifted his mood considerably, yet the weight in his chest remained.

"It's the fucking Matrix, Optimus. It's not the right Matrix... it's... I have no idea how to explain it... just pull it out." Sam gesticulated wildly laying on the bed. "Either someone switched the original for a fake or it got poisoned... Or maybe vired... I don't know."

Sam blabbed, but Optimus found himself considering his ideas. He pulled the Matrix out, his chest opening and closing, artifact spinning slowly in his hand.

"How... how would you know?" Optimus asked, curious... _caring_for the first time since his unfortunate explosion of temper.

"It zapped me! Like if it wanted me gone, like if it hated me... I don't know. I'm not good with the sci-fi mumbo-jumbo." After a pause Sam added "Throw it away, it poisons you."

It was hard to believe that the Matrix, of all things, an ancient and good artifact would... could do any harm.

But he had learned to trust Sam, smallest of his brothers, and possibly smallest of his friends.

He let his arm relax on his side, fingers uncurling as the Matrix dropped to the ground with a loud sound.

Optimus inhaled air deeply and released it.

"Will you forgive me?"

"_I_ have nothing to forgive you... the question is will you forgive yourself?"

* * *

><p>SAM'S GONE!/ The frantic message sent to him was what woke Ratchet up in the morning that day. Soon after he was being screamed at by Carly and Bumblebee in the room where Sam was supposed to be and still wasn't present.

He stormed out of the med-bay and on his way sent a freezing glare towards Roadbuster who only shrugged. He was going to talk with the mech.

After searching for the wayward patient, autobot medic found him curled on the human sized berth in Optimus' room, both resting fitfully.

"Just don't freak out..." Sam mumbled sleepily before slowly getting himself up... "Fuck, my head hurts. Just let me wake up and I'll explain."

"You shouldn't be out of your bed, Sam. You should avoid any unnecessary movement because of your brain condition."

"Stop, please, my head..."After he slid off the bed, Sam limped towards Ratchet.

"You have a concussion..."

"Great, I will remember to never get zapped by a vired matrix again and not to fall down the high places." Sam said ironically. "It's about the Matrix, Ratchet. It was either swapped with a fake or has some virus... I don't know." He picked Sam up.

"Explain."

"I have held it in my hand before and it only tingled pleasantly. Last time when Optimus showed it to me... It bit me."

"Bit you?"

"You know, like an angry dog would. It zapped me and I fell down on the floor."

Ratchet eyed the artifact thoughtfully. "So it wasn't Optimus who had hit you?"

"Frag no! How could you even..."Sam looked at Ratchet with bewildered expression "Please tell me you didn't though it was... "

Ratchet cycled his optics to the side. "I didn't find any viral code in Optimus," he said quietly, changing topic.

"I have no idea... oh boy!" Sam clutched at his head and mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Remember to walk around more often. You are so grounded and be grateful I can't really weld you to the berth. Between you two..." Ratchet indicated Optimus "...I wish I could."

"Just... Release him, alright?" Sam pleaded when Ratchet was carrying him back to his quarters, back to Bee's and Carly's care.

"If the virus is still circulating in his system, I cannot..." Ratchet protested medical expertise disagreeing with what he believed was boy's seventh sense.

"You thought he hurt me, he didn't, he never would..."

"You didn't see him Sam. understand me, _I_ am responsible for people's well-being here, I cannot risk their health."

"He's your oldest friend, isn't he. Stop hurting him and give him a chance." Why was Sam saying all those things that made him feel so guilty? Why couldn't he argue more...

"Slaggit, Sam! Fine, I will, but please don't you _dar__e _blame me for what will happen!"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm very sorry for the delay in posting this fic but the beta disappeared (probably eaten by RL) So I finally decided to post yet another unbetaed chapter.

The story is finished on my HD so that you dpn't have to worry about me ever completing it. Thanks to all the readers that gave me ideas and was an inspiration to write it.

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><p>Optimus came out of recharge feeling light... or rather considerably lighter than he had felt since the Sentinel. He felt like after full de-frag, or complete systems reinstall.<p>

He rose his arms and stretched - a fancy human habit that felt so good he put it in his subroutines for moments like that.

Then it hit him. He wasn't cuffed anymore.

Right then Optimus felt like smiling. He stretched once again opening his vents wide, inhaling the air that smelled like... medical bay... really. It wasn't a very pleasant smell by all means, but today it felt good.

"Optimus." Roadbuster's voice sounded from the entrance.

"Roadbuster." Optimus straightened and looked at the Wrecker... good mood evaporating as he saw the drawn and charged gun in his hand and serious face-plates.

"I am here as a precaution." He said, yet Optimus couldn't help, but feel the pang of hurt. They still didn't trust him. He wanted to deny, say that he wasn't a threat... only... He had threatened Sideswipe, almost killed Bee.

"I will not hurt anyone." He said weakly, voice subdued and small.

Roadbuster subspaced his gun and nodded, but his optics under specialized visor was still fixed on him.

A sudden painful throbbing of the spark in his chest made Optimus gasp as he clutched at his chest. Unexpected pain ebbing already, leaving only ghostly ache.

Roadbuster, being who he was, still tried to protect them all yet Optimus wished Ironhide was there. Someone to smack him upside the roof and tell him that he acted screwier than a doublended screw.

* * *

><p>Mirage had observed the talk between Optimus and Sam. The exchange left him feeling better. Sam being the little, spastic, energetic, human with all his gesturing; and Prime, regal, old presence that looked like a scolded hatchling.<p>

It was amusing, and proof of a change that their race had been subjected to.  
>The ages old beings that had supreme knowledge and experience needed help from tiny, fragile and young race. They listened to them and considered them equals despite being able to crush them with ease.<p>

Despite their fragility, humans weren't weak. Running on hormones, illogical organic imperatives and adrenaline they were still lethal warriors... And apparently great friends.

Somehow, Mirage mused, both of their races complimented each other. Completed.

His Prime and Sam was the best example of this. Sam had endangered his human life to save Optimus, Optimus had died to save Sam.

If that wasn't what made the truly unbreakable bonds Mirage wasn't sure anything else could tie two beings closer.

Sam trusted Optimus and Optimus trusted Sam.

As Optimus pulled out the Matrix and let it drop to the ground, Sam drifted off to sleep. Mirage kept an eye on them both, amazed and hoping that one day he would be allowed to experience a friendship that exceeded the race or size.

In the morning when Ratchet came storming into med-bay and Sam explained what had happened Mirage kept silent, only pinging Ratchet so that the medic knew of his presence.

Only later the medic relieved him off his duty and thanked for keeping his processor at ease.

* * *

><p>As Ratchet, Bee, Sideswipe and Mirage approached Roadbuster stepped back but still keeping a wary optic on Optimus. The door was closed and they all stared at him silently.<p>

It hurt.

"Will you forgive me?" Optimus asked looking Bee in the optics. Out of all mechs that made his personal cohort he had probably hurt his young friend the most. The yellow scout was standing, uncertain with distrust written all over his face-plates.

It brought up yet again a memory purge of what he had done of what he had caused.

"Will you _all_forgive me?"

"Sam told us about the matrix, Optimus," Ratchet explained and reached hand toward Optimus who grasped it gratefully, a heavy weight of guilt lifting somewhat from his spark.

"Forgive me, old friend."

Ratchet nodded. "Sam said there was something in the matrix that had attacked him, he called it a virus. I couldn't find any in your code before and still can't. If you allow, I'll do a direct streaming in front of everyone. We all have _some_ experience with coding and as minimal asit can be, maybe someone will see what I missed. We _can't_wait for others." The desperation in Ratchet's voice was barely heard but Optimus heard the minimal quiver of his vocalization all to accurately.

With no protest at all Prime petulantly opened his wrist panel and let Ratchet plug in the monitor. Ratchet put it beside the second one.

"Here you have the streaming recording I took after Egypt," The CMO explained " Sam indicated that back then everything was okay with the matrix." Optimus watched as well.

The screens were divided in four, each part showing a constant stream of readings.  
>One part, - binary code, the most basic of what humans so aptly adapted into their own uses from what could have been a basic code of brain function for Cybertronians. The other-runningn lines of Cybertronian coding. Glyphs glowing with different colors. Third a direct CPU streaming. And lastly a graph of spark resonance - a heartbeat for every Cybertronian.<p>

Optimus knew what all four of it were, he had learned to spot major errors in them, yet they were as unreadable for him as a language that he didn't have the mods for

He watched with other bots, but he saw nothing. No one said a word everyone concentrating, watching, trying hard to find what had caused the obvious glitch in Prime's coding. Probably desperately hoping that they could fix Optimus.

"Oh for the flying slag..." Roadbuster snorted suddenly, all other present startling and Optimus actually jumping on the berth. He forgot the Wrecker was even there.

"Do you have anything to say?" Ratchet eyed the green mech sceptically.

"It looks like a minor spark frequency enhancer." He approached the screen "Here, here and here,." He pointed to the spark frequency graph in three points then he pointed to the lines of code "The slag's disguised itself as your basic code. The shit is expertly waved in, like if someone actually knew your coding."

Optimus stared as did other bots. Sideswipe was first to recover.

"And you just happen to be an expert, huh?"

"More of an one that your sorry bunch, obviously." Sideswipe growled in response, fight routines coming online, but one look from Ratchet made them come to sudden halt.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why don't I have that particular info on my files." The medic asked in an interrogative voice "Mechs with such specialisations are registered and..."

"Why didn't you ask?" Roadbuster shrugged. "Besides I never did a spec. Too much of a fucking effort if you ask me." Optimus flinched at the human curse - part of human culture that Wreckers excelled at adapting to.

Ratchet palmed his face in what looked like exasperation. Optimus could sympathize. "Can you do something about it?"

"The Sam guy said there was something in the matrix. Let me see it and I'll tell you."

Ratchet nodded expression serious. "Follow me."

When Roadbuster was leaving, Sideswipe thrown him a dirty look. Mirage following suit. The two fighters not very fond of the green bot.

Then they left leaving Optimus and Bee alone.

Optimus looked into the other 'Bot's optics. The scout nodded and chirped and came to Optimus, placing a hand on his shoulder.

No words were said. There was no need.

"Thank you, my friend." Optimus smiled with relief.

With a nod, Bee was gone.

* * *

><p>The Matrix hovered in his hand, shining and powerful. Oh he could feel the power, could almost taste it, his circuits tingling in anticipation.<p>

Roadbuster dug out an old coder software; reinstalling it, booting up the right mods.

The software was obsolete... Not heaving a specialisation leaving him with only a lower quality software not updated in vorns.

As he rebooted his systems, automatic additional firewalls and traps came up. It ached, the ache of long unused circuits.

After he was sure he had everything he searched the matrix for resonance frequency.

While it was easy to plug into someone and have the interface program figure everything out and then do direct changes to the code, artifacts were tricky things. Every carrier worked on different frequency that held the code.

What made him curse at the idiocy and ingeniousness of whoever programmed the Matrix was the fact that It's carrier frequency was exactly the same as Optimus' spark one.

No fragging surprise that no errors ever appeared, that Prime's body never reacted. The fluctuations were identical... Well almost. The difference was the tiny spikes that had alerted him to the frequency enchancer.

But then there was second frequecy, humming low with an ancient and non invasive transmision.

He had run the second program and he could see the two layers of coding, one ancient, with glyphs so old he couldn't figure them out and second one, implemented only recently that carried the viral code.

What was even more surprising was that they were interwined and he had to dampen the original ancient frequency to see the new code fully. He tried to start deleting the code, but it leashed at him as if it was conscious.

"You don't fuck with Roadbuster and live to tell the tale." He snarled and dealt with the code as if he would with an enemy.

Head on dash, shoot it off and then injecting curing code straight to what appeared as it's center.

Which was a bad idea, and proof that someone who programmed the Matrix was a frigging genius.

The code scrambled and dispersed, frequency changing to Matrix's original one.

"Fuck you." Weaving out lines of code had became a fucking tedious job. With a sigh and another curse Roadbuster accessed his secondary processor, usually used for automatic weapon use, which made him the legend of "shoots first asks later" and reprogrammed it to cleaning up the bad code. It was marginally easier because the newer glyphs had been hidden between unrecognizable ancient Cybertronian.

Just in case he partitioned a place in his memory for buffer taking care of small lack of quick access memory.

Now it was only matter of hours.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is the last part. Betaed by femme4jack this time. I will hopefully get previous chapters rebetaed soon.

Thank you for all the favs, alerts and reviews they always make my writing worthwile.

* * *

><p>"The slagger was good, "Roadbuster quipped handling the Matrix to Optimus. Ratchet watching him gingerly.<p>

"It was quickly applied program that was supposed to make you prone to suggestions and respond to a particular spark resonance."

"Sentinel!" Optimus gasped, everything suddenly making sense. His spark lurched in his chest, hurt.

"Prime, sir. I suggest not getting too excited." Roadbuster said, looking at Ratchet. "What I thought as spark enhancer induced fluctuation at first, was actually your spark fighting the code. Frequency spikes causing anger, irrational behaviours.

"Your coding should clean itself up in few orns, but I don't think this particular spark-quirk will ever fix itself. You might experience emotional outbursts occasionally, though not as extreme as before.

"Why the frag no-one knew we had a coding expert on the base." Ratchet harrumphed, question more rhetorical than anything.

"I'm an expert in beating cons into slag, this... a past." Roadbuster explained with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Thank you for your help, Roadbuster." Optimus bowed his head.

"I couldn't allow the silver hot-shot to became the leader." Roadbuster grinned. "You beat the slag out of 'Cons like no other BAMF."

Optimus blanked at the statement. But then it was a Wrecker he was dealing with, after all.

Ratchet had wanted to punish Roadbuster for breaking his orders. Sam and Optimus had not been supposed to be in one room together.

But he couldn't make himself to do it. He was a poor, inconsistent leader outside his Medbay. There he could command, he did command to save lives, an expert in what he did.

Outside, his leadership skills were unacceptable, having assumed that he knew all there was to know about the mechs in his care, having underestimated Wreckers.

With relief and not a small sense of failure he officially got Optimus reinstated as the Autobot leader declaring him fit for duty.

He wanted to put it in the past, to get over it. But whenever Optimus came back for a checkup, whenever his spark acted up, Ratchet was reminded that he had failed, as an officer, friend and medic.

Yet it was his to deal with.

Time healed wounds, humans used to say.

But time was a relative term when it came to Cybertronians. For humans, with their short lifespans and faulty memories, time flowed blessedly fast.

For mechs with ages-long lives, almost incorruptible memory cores, and sparks that scarred so easily... time wasn't a healer.

Bumblebee as the youngest of them, saw.

He forgave Prime, it was beyond his trusting spark not to, but he remembered every time he used a substitute cannon while Leadfoot was working on the cannon Ironhide had made.

After leaving the medbay, Sam had expressed countless times his concern for their leader, Sam now as much a part of Autobot cohort as any of the mechs.

Bumblebee wasn't sure if the big mech ever forgave himself, but he was back.

Scared and hurt, but composed and stronger than ever. Helping rebuild, instead of destroying what was left of their race.

While Prime seemed to come back to his senses. Ratchet seemed to be losing them.

Sideswipe was unnerved by their CMO's behaviour, so different from his norm.

The snark was gone, and the medic spent hours upon hours closed in his medbay or at the altar.

It wasn't like him. Sideswipe could understand mourning of the fallen comrade, his mentor's death affected him more than he would like to admit afterall.

And so, adamant about doing something, he caught Roadbuster unaware and straight out hit him. Not offering any explanation, though feeling the slight satisfaction for getting even for the 'silver hot-shot' comment.

After that, as expected he had earned a punishment detail and a visit to the medbay.

What Ratchet did only confirmed his fears. He sighed and went about fixing him. No snide remarks, threats of reformatting or anything that used to be Ratchet.

"Stop It."

Ratchet paused and looked at him surprised.

"Were you affected by the Matrix as well? You're acting irrational."

Ratchet's expression grew serious and determined before relaxing into helpless indifference.

"We all miss him." Sideswipe admitted, deciding that with no one listening, he could sacrifice a bit of his pride. Ratchet looked at him in surprise once again and smiled a sad smile.

"It's not about him... not anymore, at least." He admitted.

"Then what got into your circuits? What does someone have to do to get you out of your whistful little place."

"Why would you even care?" Ratchet looked ready to fight for a moment.

"Because Pit slagged Roadbuster is acting like if he rules the world now, and I prefer you as Second in Command to that pompous green pain in the skidplate."

"I am not fit to be a Second in Comand when I'm the CMO."

"Repeated it enough times to actually believe in it yourself, huh?" Sideswipe spit back and glared at the medic who stared back at him. Sideswipe found himself shocked as he realized he just sounded like Ironhide. "I'm sorry, but it looks like he rubbed off on me more than I expected." They shared an understanding look and Ratchet cracked a smile.

Quickly after that he had to stop himself from wincing, as there was no gentleness in the hammering that Ratchet gave, but he could make it much more painful and Sideswipe took it for what it was. A thanks.

"I know you're there, you old slagger." Ratchet rushed to the altar and glared at Ironhide's spark-casing. He was grinning.

He did know that ghost didn't exist. Some human para-scientist wouldn't probably agree with him, but as far as Cybertronian after-life went he was sure.

What existed were memories, feelings, bonds... Those stayed even after the spark had passed.

"I needed that, you know?" He bared his spark which reflected in multiple casings. So many yet still here, still with them, together Decepticon and Autobot alike. "What Sideswipe said... I need to get a grip. Looks like I'll need to be the level-headed one now, you slagger!"

"Sideswipe... you did a good job. Between him, Dino and Roadbuster they are going to keep us safe. Now forgive me, I need to reason with a Prime who still blames himself for everything." Ratchet groaned, hearing in his processor a memory of Ironhide speaking. "Pot, kettle." A human saying that Ironhide was so fond of.

Ratchet rolled his eyes at himself. Yes Ironhide might not be alive anymore, but he was still there, and Primus bless him for that.

Optimus mourned, kneeling in front of the altar that held mechs he loved, mechs he considered brothers, mechs he hated. They were all there, united in death. Jazz beside Megatron and Ironhide beside Sentinel. Elita and Jolt, the twins. Tiny cores of Wheelie and Brains melted together.

He insisted on bringing all of them, Starscream and Soundwave, Bumblebee salvaged even Barricade's casing and they were still searching for Laserbeak's remains.

All united because no spark was ever born evil.

The Matrix, now cleansed, hummed in his chest, It's power thrumming through his paths - power of the ancient Primes.

Living within him it gave him strength and courage to deal with the aftermath of what had been the worst and hopefully the only war their kind ever experienced.

It reminded him that he was supposed to lead living mechs, not unite them in death.


End file.
